Poison
by littlemissmockingjay
Summary: President Coriolanus Snow...such a young man when he rose to power. And he kept it.  How did he do it? That's easy- poison.  **Oneshots of a snake's life** ON HIATUS


**A/N: To anyone who's reading my other story, "The Final Hunger Games", please do not be alarmed! I will continue updating both. Just in case you were wondering, I update on weekends but I will try my best to update on weekdays. Also, I don't really write other characters unless they're really small, because I just know I'll mess the major ones up. This is why I like small characters and OC's. In this chapter, President Snow is 13 years old and it is before the rebellion. Anyways, this fanfiction describes President Coriolanus Snow's rise to power, from the pre-rebellion days when he would sit in the meadow with his childhood playmate Delia (Deel-ya), to his death. I hope you like it!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games or any of its characters, Suzanne Collins does. I only own Delia and any other OC's that may pop up. **

**Thanks a bunch to EnjoyEveryMoment, the beta-reader of this fic. She makes it a million times better!**

Coriolanus Snow's POV

It was a perfect day. The sky was an endless expanse of brilliant blue, dotted with fluffy white clouds. The golden sun's rays shone brilliantly, illuminating the meadow and warming the earth. A gentle breeze blew through the meadow, rustling the flowers and sending their sweet scent wafting towards the Capitol's candy coloured buildings. The grass was soft and lush under my fingers, and the genetically-enhanced flowers blossomed everywhere. Their petals were like silk and their colours ranged from a vibrant sunshine yellow to a soft lavender, almost like the sky at twilight. Delia made this day even more perfect.

Delia and I stared at the clouds. "That one looks like Mr. Johanssen." I chuckled teasingly, pointing to an extremely fat cloud.  
"Cori! He's not _that _fat." Delia scolded, but I could hear the smile in her voice.  
"He is _so_ that fat. " I told her back, lazily tearing out a bit of grass. Delia laughed, and when she laughed, it was contagious. Her laugh was like a bell; soft, sweet, and musical. I heard my laugh joins hers, our laughs forming a cheerful chorus that filled the air. We joked back and forth, talking about which cloud looked like which person. I could have spent hours just lying in the grass with Delia.

I sat up and watched Delia weave crowns out of the flowers. Her chocolate brown eyes were focused, and her fingers were nimble and clever as she wove two pink carnations together. I skipped off to other parts of the meadow to gather some more flowers for her to weave. I also secretly picked up some exquisite white roses to give to her later. That's when I heard her scream.

Shriek after shriek pealed from Delia's throat. I rushed to her. Her face had drained of all colour, and her hands trembled. Flower garlands, circlets, and wreaths were strewn around her feet. She must have dropped them. "Why are you screaming?" I asked her worriedly. "Are you hurt?" I added, anxious. She shook her head faintly. "Then what's wrong?" I inquired, genuinely confused. Shaking, she pointed at a spot in the meadow a few feet away. I looked around, unable to see what was wrong. That's when I heard the snake hiss.

The snake looked menacing, fangs bared. The sun glinted off its scales. A rat dangled from it's jaws. I suppressed laughter. "Del, It's just a snake." I said calmly, struggling to keep the laughter out of my voice. "I know...but look at it! The poison!" Delia replied, burying her face in her hands. I looked closer, and saw the droplets of purple that sprinkled the rat's fur and dripped from the snake's fangs. "I think the poison is kind of cool." I commented. Delia looked shocked.  
"Really? Are you serious, Cori?" Delia gasped. Silence fell over the meadow. I wanted to say "No," just so Delia wouldn't think I was weird, but I couldn't help myself. Unable to stop myself, I admitted, "Yes, I do think the poison is cool."

Delia's eyes were questioning. She looked as if she were trying extraordinarily hard to understand me. Finally, she collected herself and broke the awkward silence. "Why do you think the poison is cool, Cori?" Her voice was scarcely above a whisper. I shrugged. I had never really considered why. I began to think of answers. _Having the power to take a life so easily. _My mind wrote down swiftly. I couldn't admit that to Delia...could I? I'd say that if I couldn't think of any better, more positive answers. My mind didn't think of anything better, so I confessed, "I think poison is cool because..." I choked on my words, "It gives you the power to take life so easily."

Delia's big eyes widened. Her full pink lips fell open. "Cori!" She gaped. I knew it. She thought I was morbid. I clenched my fist tightly around the roses I picked for her and resisted the urge to scream in frustration and tear my hair out. "How...how could you...think...think like that?" She stammered, frightened.  
"Wouldn't it make you so powerful, Delia? Who can resist the promise of power?" I demanded, my voice rising higher.  
"Stop!" She shouted, tears welling up in her eyes. I felt I needed desperately to explain myself, redeem myself in her eyes.  
"It's _power, _Delia, _power_!" I yelled loudly, feeling fury rise up inside me.  
"S-s-s-stop. Just stop, Coriolanus." Delia repeated, this time quietly and reproachfully. She still didn't get it! "Delia, it's pow-" I began furiously.  
"STOP! I don't want to hear any more!" Delia sobbed, running away.

I sighed in frustration. All she left were her flower circlets. I felt infuriated. There was no justice here. I viciously tore the garlands, wreaths, circlets -anything she had made, really- into shreds. I still felt no relief. I gripped the white roses meant for Delia tightly before turning on them. I shred them, ripped them until they lay on the grass, decapicated. However, in the act of tearing up the roses, the thorns cut me so it was too painful to shred the final one. It just sat in my hand, mocking me with its perfection. I watched as tiny droplets of my blood stained its satiny white petals. The contrast is rather lovely. The rose's cloying, sickeningly sweet scent mingled with the tart, rusty smell of my blood, filling the air with the fragrance of blood and roses. As I sprint fiercely out of the meadow, leaving nothing but the salty tears and ripped flowers behind, I form one clear thought.

_Blood and roses form quite a nice combination. _

**A/N: Love it? Hate it? Please tell me how you feel with a review. Reviews inspire me to write/update faster. :)**


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